


A friendly exchange

by taralynden



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-17
Updated: 2012-02-17
Packaged: 2017-10-31 08:44:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taralynden/pseuds/taralynden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ratchet is not in the mood to deal with anyone; Prowl isn't taking 'get out' for an answer until he's said his piece</p>
            </blockquote>





	A friendly exchange

Ratchet did not need to look up to know who caused the shadow in his office doorway. No-one else would approach when he was in this kind of mood, not unless they had a critical injury. Even then, most might think twice. This one, though, would not leave just because he was yelled at.

"What do you want, Prowl?" he growled.

"To talk. May I come in?"

"So you'll go away if I refuse?"

"No."

"Then what's the point of asking?"

"It is generally considered polite." Prowl responded calmly.

The tactician picked his way carefully across the floor, avoiding the broken datapads and thrown implements, then brushed some crystal shards off the visitor's chair and seated himself as assuredly as if he were in his own office.

Ratchet folded his arms crossly. Prowl wanted to talk? Well he did not.

"This'd better not be about that slagging maintenance report." he warned him. "I told you already I'll have it on your desk tomorrow and I _will_ if I can just get a breem's peace."

"This is not work related."

"A purely social call? From _you_? So now you have to _act_ like Jazz, not just frag him?"

"This is not about Jazz," Prowl began mildly, but Ratchet had had enough.

"He's at least as incompatible with you as Sunny is with me, so butt out and leave us alone!" he exploded.

Prowl, for his part, simply folded his hands primly in his lap.

"Incompatible? Do you believe that?"

"About you and Jazz? Absolutely! No question!"

"About you and Sunstreaker." Prowl persisted evenly, not responding to the insult with so much as a doorwing flick.

"You just don't like him because he's a troublemaker. He disobeys, he gets in trouble, he goes where he shouldn't, he ignores orders. He should be locked up. He's a maniac, everyone believes it so why not you too?"

"I am not here to have an argument with you over what others might believe. You should know better than to expect such vitriol from me."

"Pretty words don't change what you're thinking. You don't think Sunny and I will work, do you? Do you? Truth, Prowl: don't lie to me, we've known each other too long."

Prowl held his gaze silently for a moment before responding.

"You both have volatile tempers. His role is to destroy, yours is to save. You have had sparkmates before and lost them to this war, while he has never yet committed to anyone at all beyond his brother and has never shown any sign that he intended to. Even now, his motives remain obscure..."

"Get out." Ratchet hissed, brandishing a wrench threateningly. "Get out before I _throw_ you out. And don't think I won't do it!"

As second in command Prowl could have him incarcerated for the threat alone and Ratchet half-wished he would - some uninterrupted time to think would be welcome, and there was nowhere more isolated than the _Ark_ 's brig - but instead he only sighed and rose.

"Very well, I shall go. But before I do, I would like to fulfil my purpose in coming. I came to offer you and Sunstreaker three decaorns leave of duty, and in spite of my less than warm reception here that offer stands. With Prime's blessing."

"What?" Ratchet choked, his arm lowering as confusion washed through him.

"I felt you were likely to appreciate some time to determine the direction of this new relationship without the interference of others. First Aid can cover your duties here adequately for that time period."

Ratchet fell back into his chair, stunned, as Prowl moved back towards the door. He could not quite process what he was hearing, and he wondered if this was what it felt like to have a processor freeze.

A panicked thought occurred to him that if it was, he was not sure how he would break out of it.

"And for the record," the SIC commented, pausing in the doorway, "since you ask, thus far Jazz and I have found each other remarkably compatible. Given time I'm sure that that will also prove true outside of our physical relationship but in the meantime I would appreciate the same patient consideration that you have so eloquently requested for yourself. Enjoy your vacation, Ratchet. I hope it goes well."


End file.
